Mazzy’s Stars

The other night we went to Gigi’s Playhouse. It was teen night – young people with Down syndrome, 17 years old and up.  They were getting together to hang out.  We’ve done this before, met with groups, hoping for connections, hoping for more than a simulation of a night out with friends, hoping for friendship.

17 years ago

Has this blog ever been about anything else? Mazzy. Mazzy. My first child. The girl who changed the world. My world anyway. “Every child changes your whole life!” “That’s true for typical kids in friendships, too!” “All kids go through tough school transitions!” I could try to tell you how different it is to love

hallelujah is another word for thank you

and i’ve seen your flag on the marble arch and love is not a victory march it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah mazzy wants to be in the choir. she’s sat in the audience applauding her brother and her sister for a few years now. she wants a turn.  but the polite email

slay trick or you get eliminated

this summer there was internet buzz over the near eradication of down syndrome in iceland.  people wrote articles against eugenics and disability.  and i agree, it is terrible, right?  deciding that your child probably shouldn’t live because they may have down syndrome?  i mean, geez louise. mazzy wasn’t too concerned though.  she listened to a lot of beyonce this summer.   last

raspberry beret

a funny thing kept happening as we walked alone in rows of raspberries.  every spot we stopped to pick there would be a better one directly across the way. each time the very next row would hold larger berries, branches with fruit threatening to drop from the weight. how can it be, i wondered each

the great intelligence of kindness

mazzy has been busy with her high school musical. she’s been spending nights at rehearsal, putting together costume ideas and driving to the performing center right from school with friends who have cars. driving in a friend’s car.  walking together out of the school to the parking lot and dropping her purple backpack onto the

don’t worry, mom

don’t worry, mom. she says it enough lately that i’m starting to wonder that perhaps i’m more anxious than i know. mazzy turned 14 last week. it’s been less like a blink and more like a night of sleep.  time passes unaware, but it happened.  you were just out of time in a way. mazzy

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what god thinks of down syndrome

this weekend held world down syndrome day within it.  3/21.  if ever there was a reason to dust off the ol’ blog, this is it.  a conversation with my dear friend, jamica, reminded me of what being mazzy’s mother has taught me, is teaching me still…this post was an article that was published in that

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